


How To Win at Existential Crisis

by quantumducky



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Existential Angst, Fluff, Gen, it's just cute really... just me making myself happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23270239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumducky/pseuds/quantumducky
Summary: When the Toy Soldier found him, Brian was lying face-down on the floor.
Relationships: Drumbot Brian & The Toy Soldier
Comments: 21
Kudos: 185
Collections: The Toy Soldier Has Rights





	How To Win at Existential Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> i have a short story due for class in 3.5 hours and i wrote this instead of that, send help for my priorities
> 
> anyway i love the toy soldier and i love brian and i think they should be friends

When the Toy Soldier found him, Brian was lying face-down on the floor. It had learned some things from previous experience, so before attempting to start a conversation, it first asked him whether he was dead. People who were dead rarely had anything interesting to say, and they weren’t very good listeners, either.

“No,” he sighed, not looking up. “I’m not dead.”

“Oh! That’s good!”

Brian just shrugged.

“What are you doing?”

He finally turned his head slightly and looked at it. “Having an existential crisis.”

“Oh!” it said again. It had no idea what that meant. “Can I join you?”

He laughed to himself. The Toy Soldier laughed, too, even though it wasn’t sure what the joke was. “Sure,” he decided.

Although it couldn’t change its expression, it projected its best aura of happiness in lieu of a smile. “Splendid!” It lay down on the floor next to him, copying his position, and waited a few seconds before deciding there must be more to it than just that. “What do I do now?”

Brian had already turned his face back to the floor, so he looked up again at the question with the sound of scraping metal. It was not a very pleasant sound, but the Toy Soldier didn’t have real ears, so that was alright. “You just lie there,” he explained, “and question whether you’re even a real person or not until either you figure it out, which has never happened in  _ my _ experience, or someone comes along and shoots you for blocking the hallway.”

This didn’t sound like the  _ most _ entertaining of games, but the Toy Soldier didn’t mind. It was just happy to be spending time with one of its friends. “Okay,” it agreed cheerfully, and looked down at the floor as well.

With that settled, Brian went back to what he had been doing before it showed up. Just as he’d said, this mostly consisted of staring at the floor and thinking about the uncertain state of his personhood. Was he still the same person he remembered being, before he died and came back rebuilt? Or just a machine with a dead man’s heart and memories stuffed inside, tricking himself into believing he had once been human? Could anyone ever know for sure? What if  _ everyone _ knew, and they just didn’t want to tell him? What if he-

“Brian,” the Toy Soldier stage-whispered, breaking into his train of thought.

He tried not to sound annoyed by the interruption, although he doubted it would notice anything either way. “Yes?”

“I figured it out.”

“...Did you?”

“Yes! I thought about it quite a lot, and I have decided that I am definitely not real!” It sounded incredibly proud of itself.

“Oh, uh… well done.”

“Thank you!” It was even happier now, if that was possible. “That means we’re done, right? Did I win?”

Brian sighed, but it was more amused than irritated. “Yeah, congratulations. You won at having an existential crisis.”

The Toy Soldier sat up and clapped its hands together, which did not produce a clapping sound so much as a dull wooden  _ thunk. _ “Excellent!” It looked at him expectantly. “What shall we do now?”

“Now?” 

He hadn’t been planning to do anything other than  _ this _ for the rest of the day, week, or possibly month, depending on how long it took for the rest of the crew to reach the limit of their patience re: having to step over him. He had also been planning to do it  _ alone. _ But if he  _ said _ that, the Toy Soldier would be disappointed, which was no good… and if he let it stay, it would keep interrupting, which would ruin the entire idea of being sad on the floor. It was still waiting for him to answer.

“I, uh… I guess we could go look for a chess set or something? Do you know  _ how _ to play chess?”

“Not in the slightest!” It had already set off marching down the hallway. “I’m sure it will be jolly good fun!”

This, Brian decided, might as well happen. As the Toy Soldier showed no sign of waiting for him, he got to his feet and hurried after it, all his previously inescapable thoughts pushed out by the suddenly much more pressing matter of making sure it didn’t get them both disassembled looking through the wrong person’s things in search of a chess set. He would not admit to himself until later that, somehow, he had ended up feeling much better.


End file.
